On the Prowl by Kate Rudolph

14

Em eventually had enoughof waiting and went to go look for Andre. She wasn't eager to find the shadow wolf or whatever it was, but as long as Andre was there, she knew she'd be safe. And she didn't know what she would do if something had happened to him because of her.

He was her bodyguard. Whether she liked it or not. But that didn't mean that she wished any harm coming to him.

Just the opposite.

She didn't have to go far before she found him staggering down the hallway, one hand covered in blood where he clutched his shoulder.

She rushed to him. "Oh my God, are you okay?" It was stupid. He was bleeding. Of course he wasn't okay.

Andre gave a tight grimace. Without a second thought, Em got close and scooped herself under his uninjured arm, leading him back to her dressing room. If that photographer had been around now, he would've gotten a hell of a photo. But someone had to be smiling down on Em, since the hallway was strangely deserted.

She got them into her dressing room and set him gently down on her couch. The fabric was dark, but she wasn't particularly concerned about leaving stains at the moment. There was a small first-aid kit under her dressing table and she grabbed it, flipping it open and looking for supplies.

"You don't need to do that," Andre called over her shoulder. He was still sitting down, and there was a roughened edge to his voice that came from the pain of whatever had happened. "It will heal soon. I heal fast."

Still, Em turned around with a bottle of saline and some gauze bandages. "So you know how fast you heal when a ghost werewolf attacks you?" she challenged with more vigor than she was feeling. Her hands were shaking, and the tremor threatened to move through her whole body. This was real. It wasn't just some torn clothing or bedding. It was torn skin. Torn Andre. And Em was on the edge of freaking out.

Andre gave her a pained grin. "Okay, this is new. But it is healing." And then he pulled off his shirt to show her.

Em's mouth went dry. She had seen plenty of shirtless men before. It was almost a requirement of her job. But Andre was a force unto himself. Even with a trickle of blood reminding her of what he had just gone through, she still wanted to feel the hard planes of his chest against her hands.

And her tongue.

But she wasn't going to do that. Because he needed help.

"Wolf got your tongue?" Andre asked.

Oh, she wanted to slap him. It was completely juvenile. Why did she feel a bit like a little girl being teased on the playground? But then Andre shifted in his seat and winced. And thoughts of slapping and teasing fled.

She knelt on the couch beside him and soaked one of the bandages in saline, using it to wipe away some of the blood from the wound. It was nasty, but he was right. At this point it didn't look like something a wild animal had done to him. It appeared like the kind of scratch he could get by accidentally catching on a nail or some other type of easy to explain injury.

He placed his hand over hers and stopped her from moving. "I'm okay, I promise." Their eyes locked again, and she could feel the weight of it. If he wasn't okay, he was a great liar. But she didn't think he would lie about this. He was here to keep her safe.

"Did you kill it?" she asked. What had her life come to where that was a question she had to ask?

His expression was grim as he shook his head. "It disappeared."

She didn't know what he meant by that, but she was more concerned about his healing wounds. "Not before giving you these nasty gouges."

"Unfortunately not."

"How did it disappear? Where? Did it run outside?" She hoped there wasn't some ghost werewolf tormenting her fans, but someone probably would have said something by this point.

"I mean it disappeared," he repeated, stressing the word. "One minute we were fighting and the next it was like smoke. Just gone."

"Like magic." It wasn't a question. She could accept werewolves. Even werewolves created by magic. But magic itself was still difficult to wrap her mind around.

"Yes." He shifted again, and his eyes scrunched down as he thought. "I slammed into the wall and hit the light switch," he said. "That's when it disappeared. It was pretty dark before then."

"So you think it's afraid of light? Or maybe there is some sort of… magic stuff… that means it can't attack in the light?" This was not the kind of logic she was used to using, but they needed an advantage over the thing.

Andre wasn't so quick to agree. "I wouldn't set our expectations there. We don't want to draw that conclusion and have it bite us in the ass. But I would encourage you to keep the lights on."

Now was not the time to explain how the lights for the concert would work. Maybe Em was being grossly naïve, but if there was something controlling this ghost werewolf, she had to assume it wouldn't attack her during the concert.

Magic-using people probably didn't want magic to be widely known if they hadn't revealed themselves by now. And having a ghost werewolf attack her in the middle of a concert would be one way to announce magic to the world.

"Yes, I still think you should cancel the concert," Andre answered the unasked question.

For some reason that made Em huff out a little laugh. "And I'm still not going to do it. I really don't think it will attack me in front of so many people."

"It just attacked you in front of the entire crew," he pointed out.

"No it didn't," she responded. "It was sniffing around the equipment. You chased it. We don't know if it was going to attack me.”

"You're playing with your life." His stare was almost intense enough to make her back down.

Almost. "Then protect me. You're doing a good job so far."

Andre groaned, and she tried really hard not to imagine what kind of guttural sounds he would make if they were in bed together.

There was a knock on her door, but before Em could say anything, Darlene was opening it.

"There's no sign of that photographer anymore," she said. Then her eyes traveled over to Andre, who was pulling his shirt back on. Darlene looked between the two of them for several moments, but didn't ask what Em had been doing with a shirtless man in her dressing room.

Darlene could draw her own conclusions.

"Andre is going to be staying on with us for a bit," Em informed her, ignoring the implications of their positions. She was an adult woman. She could have as many shirtless men in her dressing room as she wanted. "Can you get him a hotel room for tonight?"

Darlene grimaced and shook her head. "No can do. Hotel’s fully booked. He'll have to bunk up with one of the other security members."

Em didn't need to see Andre's face to know that was a no go. "My suite is big enough for both of us. He can sleep on the couch or we can get a rollaway bed. We'll figure something out." She didn't want to admit that the thought of Andre nearby made her feel better. He could protect her from monsters if he was within yelling distance.

Darlene seemed to be suppressing a grin, as if she assumed that Em was just keeping up appearances. But Em was no blushing maiden and she didn't care if people thought she and Andre were fucking. "Did you need me for something else?"

"It's about time for the concert. You need to start getting ready."

"Can you show Andre the ropes while I’m busy?" she asked. He seemed to be doing fine on his own, but Em didn't mention that.

Darlene nodded.

Em finally looked back to Andre. There was a rip in his shirt where the ghost werewolf had attacked, but it wasn't too bad, and the skin under it seemed to be mostly healed, maybe a little bit red. He gave her a tight smile and a nod. They couldn't speak the truth in front of Darlene, but she knew what Andre would be looking for.

"Have a good show," he told her, even though he wanted her to cancel. "I promise I’ll keep you safe."

And the craziest thing of all was that she believed him.